This is on Perrymead Road, just off of Pope’s Walk leading to Perrymead Roman Catholic Cemetery in Widcombe, Bath.
Dwelling on an earlier post
, I wonder what everyone thinks about favoring either the roots or foliage of a tree. In this dissected post, both photos are from the same tree and illustrate the same theme. Below, the roots have undermined a nearby Bath Stone retaining wall and the tree essentially has been molded to supplant the wall. Above, the yellowish green foliage has been around Bath for a few months. It might not even be that color anymore. To me, it’s a reminder that I’ve missed the chance to get some of the good panoramic winter shots of Bath. The trunk that became a block in the wall now has leaves that block my view. This wasn’t planned as a post, I’m somewhat busy now and stuck by a computer so expect……………….

I’ve always figured that like the back of churches, the base of trees is often infinitely more interesting than the more prominently displayed foliage out front/above.
(This was taken a while ago in Alexandria Park (previously listed here as being in the Lyncombe Hill section of the city) but I figure if I don’t post it soon, I’ll lose/forget about it. Also it gives a neutral post to try out the new updated Google Maps program. They’ve finally included [Bath] Station Home Band! Too busy to comprehensively retrofit at this point in time.)

Considering it was the only reason people know “Tiny Tim,” statistically it’s no surprise that that was the last song he ever performed. Seriously, he suffered a heart attack while singing it at a Gala Benefit for the Woman’s Club of Minneapolis. I have a lot of flower photos I want to unload to prove to everyone that it’s spring. This has taken a lot more work than I thought it would. Maybe I’ll have more but if you don’t hear from me again, you, you dear audience are my Woman’s Club of Minneapolis.
Someone knowledgeable about flowers told me the following: “The larger dark blue/purple are primroses. The smaller blue are scilla, the very small white are wild cyclamen.” Someone less knowledgable told me if I ever go back in time that I shouldn’t step on anything. Photos presented chronologically with most recent on top.

Below: Claverton Down, Bathwick Hill Road wall with “I think (not sure) it’s creeping phlox — a particularly strong color. Usually creeping phlox…is pastel — pastel white, pink or lavender. This is a really strong color so it might be something else.” The second photo is the view from my window.
Below: Claverton Down, University of Bath
Below: Bath (Twerton?), High Commons, Commune Garden:
Below: Bath (Twerton?), Royal Victoria Park’s Botanical Garden (5Mar07): (with the exception of the night shot in Claverton Down)
Below: Bath, Royal Victoria Park (5Mar07):
Below: Bathampton, St Nicholas’ Cementery back on the 26th of Feb.
Below: Claverton, St Mary the Virgin’s Cemetery back on the 26th of Feb.
Below: My first flower shot of spring(?) in Bradford-on-Avon, Wilts. back on the 30th of January!

Royal Victoria Park (I’m not sure if it is technically in the Twerton section of Bath) is one of the earliest grand 19th century parks in the UK. It was named after you know who, who only visited the city once, to lay the cornerstone to a giant monument honoring her on reaching her majority. She never returned because she hated this filthy city and all the corrupt and beastly people who inhabited it. Monuments, streets, museums continued to be named after her here in Bath with the hope of luring her back in for an afternoon, so that the Corporation of Bath could spend more money paying for her visit.

“The foregoing observations of Mr. [William] Barron [who pleaded for more evergreens in his book The British Winter Garden (1852)] are not introduced here with the view of doing away altogether with deciduous plants and introducing nothing but Evergreeens, far from it; for in a public pleasure ground, the latter exclusively would be much too sombre and not afford sufficient variety, but that they may predominate in a general and good selection would be desirable for the winter’s resort and promenade, if not for the summer.” -F. Harnham, A Manual for the Park (London, 1857), xxxvii.

By the time the park was first opened to the public, there were 25,000 evergreens and two gates established. The duck pond was formed after damming up a few random streams nearby, which were similarly near the Gothic farmhouse that is dated 1831. The building was designed (I believe) as an eye-catcher in the new park.

Why it would have been labeled “Dairy” in the below postcard probably is due to the fact that dairies typically are old, since they were exempted from certain taxes (window, etc) and therefore were always labeled as So-and-so’s DAIRY. I don’t have the facts on this law, but I imagine it ended at some point but its cultural legacy led to random historic-looking buildings remaining in out-of-context locations being called dairies.

Recently (last week) the early 20th century dairy on Dorchester Street (between the Bath Spa Great Western Station and the bus depot) was demolished for the Southgate complex.

The cannon(s) below are attached to the Victoria Majority Monument. (Talk about a spoiled 18-year-old.)

The black riverboat is the Black Pig and it’s going over the Dundas Aqueduct, which means it is between Monkton Combe, Somerset and Winsley, Wiltshire (the lines aren’t exact so I might be wrong–also both a “symbolic counties” only.)
The black-red riverboat doesn’t have a name, and perhaps for good reason because we’ll be checking up on it tomorrow. Are you excited? I know I would be if I were in your place. But I’m not. I took the photos and know what is going to happen. It’s nothing to be all that excited about but maybe I shouldn’t have told you that.

This 1798 aqueduct spans 150 feet of the Kennet and Avon Canal over the River Avon on three arches. In 1961, it was designated an Ancient Monument Grade I and three years later they “conserved” it by fixing up its leaks and relining it with concrete. Ironically, it was built on the inferior local Bath stone material instead of the recommended brick because before the canal was built brick was far more expensive than local stone, which would of course change after the completion of the canal. Of course, Bath stone became popular after the completion of this canal as well (as previously discussed in the Ralph Allen series.)

“At the opposite extremity of the [Monkton Combe] Parish towards the east the stream of the Avon is spanned by the Dundas Aqueduct. This engineering work, very different in appearance and use from the Roman aqueducts, forms a beautiful object when seen from the top of the hill on which Limpley Stoke lies. It is in form a graceful bridge of Bath stone in three arches. But instead of a highroad, it carries the Kennet and Avon Canal across
“Charles Dundas, after whom it is named, was a man of some eminence in his time. Born in 1751, he entered Parliament in 1774, and remained a member the rest of his life, being for the greater part of the time Member for Berkshire. His first wife brought him the estate of Kentbury, Amesbury in Wiltshire, and that brought him into connexion with Bath by means of the Kennet and Avon Canal. In the Act of Parliament passed for the construction of this canal the name of Charles Dundas occurs iin the long list of proprietors. But he appears really to have been one of the originators and chief promoters of the scheme. Probably his own estate benefited by it. But as the canal was a public work of great utility to the City of Bath and the Country of Wilts, Dundas must rank as a public benefactor, who deserves to be remembered. In 1832 he was raised to the peerage with the title Baron Amesbury. But in the same year he died [of cholera and is buried in Kintbury].
“For the tablets and inscriptions on the two sides of the Aqueduct see [below].
“When the canal was opened in 1810 track boats for passengers were put upon it, called locally “the Scotch boats,” because built after a Scotch model; and it became a favourite amusement for the inhabitants of Bath to travel out in them in leisurely fashion to the Dundas Aqueduct, and spend the day at the Italian villa with grounds sloping down to the water, now occupied by Mrs. Freestun, but then a hotel.” –D. Lee Pitcairn and Alfred Richardson, An Historical Guide to Monkton Combe, Combe Down and Claverton (Bath: F. Goodall Printer, 1924), 30-31.

Dundas Aqueduct; plaque, south face.
TO CHARLES DUNDAS ESQ. / CHAIRMAN OF THE KENNET AND AVON CANAL COMPANY / FROM ITS COMMENCEMENT A.D. M.DCC.XCIII. / THE PROPRIETORS / MINDFUL OF HIS IMPORTANT SERVICES, / AND HIS UNREMITTED EXERTIONS / THROUGH A PERIOD OF XL YEARS, / GRATEFULLY INSCRIBE THIS TABLET. / A.D. M.DCCC.XXVIII

Dundas Aqueduct; plaque, north face.
TO THE MEMORY OF / JOHN THOMAS, / BY WHOSE SKILL, PERSEVERANCE AND INTEGRITY, / THE KENNET AND AVON CANAL / WAS BROUGHT TO A PROSPEROUS COMPLETION, / A.D. M.DCCC.X. / THE PROPRIETORS / GRATEFULLY INSCRIBE THIS TABLET. / A.D. M.DCCC.XXVIII

-Lady’s (above) and Men’s (below) crew teams (I want to give even representation to both sexes.)-
OK, so people apparently like not having any buildings posted for a change. I figure since most of the audience for this blog are folks not completely consumed by historical buildings but are from around here who have since moved away or people who once vacationed here and in both cases want to see some of the good “home-time” scenes. Hopefully these qualify. I aim to please the people. I must mention to please take note of the New Bridge, which defines the connection between the fields of Newton St. Low and Newbridge section of Bath.
The abovbe photo is from neighbouring Corston, Somerset — just farther along the River Avon on its way to Bristol. Below is the sheep pasture of Newton-St. Low, which has a village center that I have yet to get to.